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Roughing it: A conflict of interests?

My boyfriend is an Eagle Scout. He likes to get dirty and make things with his hands. I can tell the closer we get to warm weather, the more excited he gets at the prospect of being out in nature. This weekend, he looked at me and asked me if I was capable of "roughing it." I ceremoniously told him it depended on what his definition of "roughing it" was. This conversation also led to a subsequent conversation with my pal Charles, who probably shares/understands my love for the comforts of modern society more than most:

Me: Camping. Chris wants to camp this summer. Probably a lot. He’s worried I’ll girl out on him. I want to be the Bree Van de Kamp of camping. Effortlessly striking, yet totally capable. He keeps asking me if I know how to “rough it.” That makes me nervous.

Charles: I fucking hate camping more than almost anything. If I wanted to sleep in the woods and eat cold food and dig my own hole to crap in I would just move back to JC! Tell him to have fun and go to the spa with me instead.

While at one point in my life (age 7 and under?), I probably would have gotten dirty with the best of them, I begrudgingly admit that it's possible I've become somewhat of a priss. I've always had an interesting duality: effortlessly balancing equal parts priss and tomboy. When I was 4, you could regularly spot me wearing a pink frilly dress with a sensible hiking boot. I hope this duality has carried over into my adult years. Right now, the priss seems to be stomping the tomboy down with her shiny patent leather stiletto.

I'm sure the sequel to this post will appear a few months from now, either telling you that Charles was right and I should have gone to the spa or that I surprised the hell out of Chris and held my own against the elements. Or, perhaps I could persuade Chris to go Glamping. After all, aren't relationships about compromise?

You can never be too careful

After and reading the article below, accessed on KSDK's Web site, I can firmly say I'm considering getting a weave of my own, especially since the ex-whatevers continue to call. You can never be too careful. Thoughts?

KANSAS CITY, Mo. (AP) -- Other than having a bit of a headache, a Kansas City woman is uninjured after a bullet fired at her ended up tangled in her hair weave.

Police said the 20-year-old woman was in a convenience store parking lot late Wednesday when a man flagged her down and told her that her ex-boyfriend still loved her. She replied, "Well I dont love him," then heard gunshots.

She said she looked behind the vehicle and saw her ex-boyfriend firing a handgun at her. She stomped her accelerator and fled, then turned into another parking lot and called police. She told officers she recently had ended an eight-month relationship with the suspect.

Police arrested the ex-boyfriend and his friend in a car.

(Copyright 2009 by The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.)
Associated Press

Disgruntled employee

Piece of advice: Never come between a stressed out employee and their morning coffee...

Out of the woodwork ...

So, I've been quite amused of late about a little known (or maybe not so little known) phenomenon whereby when you finally fall into a relationship that fits, ex-boyfriends, lovers, heartbreakers, etc. decide all of a sudden that after months/years of non-contact, they want to "reconnect." WTF?

My friend Ellen thinks there have been actual scientific studies conducted on this oddity. I guess it just proves the theory that people always want what they can't have.

So I suppose I can take this opportunity to let the cat out of the bag for anyone who didn't already know. Yes, I am in a relationship. I know. Me. I've fallen into monogamy and I couldn't be happier.

You know how people always say that when you stop looking it will just kind of happen unexpectedly? Well, several months back, after a slew (read: about 5 years) of undesireable dating experiences, I said — "Fuck this. I'm done." I proactively gave up dating for at least 4 months, deciding instead to focus more heavily on work and nurting relationships with my friends (and occassionally also nurturing a bottle of champagne Charles would bring over for Champagne Thursdays ... but I digress).

Well, right before Christmas, an old friend popped back into town and I insisted we meet for drinks. He brought another friend of ours with him — someone I hadn't seen or spoken to in five years — for no other reason than I graduated college and moved away. Well, long story short, something clicked that night, we started dating, and now Chris and I are in a very happy, warm, fuzzy place.

It's sort of amazing that we've known each other for so long and are only now just realizing what a great fit we are for each other. In many ways, I'm his complete opposite. He's completely left brained and I'm ruled by the right brain. He likes computers. I like using the computer to make pretty things. He likes math. I like words. He's blonde. I'm brunette. He has light green eyes. I have dark brown eyes. But, we both enjoy a heavy dose of sarcasm and a good debate. (That should keep things interesting). He makes me smile on a regular basis and I feel great when I'm with him. It's a nice change. I think I'll stick with it.

So, all you exes/heartbreakers out there ... move it along. You can't compare so don't even try.

The Superbowl is the Valentine's Day of Football

This makes me want to institute a quote of the day. This might be the only quote of the day I ever have, but it's still worth posting. I laughed so hard I almost snorted. Today's quote comes from our friend Charles, who shared his musings on Superbowl Sunday ... which I equate as the Valentine's Day of football. It's the one day where people feel they are expected to act like they care about football.


"If I wanted to watch a bunch of bitches in big shoulder pads and tight pants roll around in the grass I would just watch Dynasty reruns."